Author Notes: It's suddenly so hooooot! D: Dammit, the only way to stop myself from getting more ideas for stories is to kill off all parents and make the characters orphans. D: Seriously, I've been resisting the urge to write a Rosa, Aleran, Xildali story. D: Ugh…

Disclaimer: I no own RO. But I pwz the seals. /gg REVENGE!

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Rangarok Online

Deadly Enchantment

Chapter 2 – Lost

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Wander, wander,

Stay a while.

Keep on walking,

Stop a moment.

Where are we now?

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"Victory for Geffen! The threat is no more!"

It was a cry that did little to alleviate the heavy hearts of the Geffenese. Building smoked and there were still several fires that needed to be put out. Rubble was strewn everywhere, as if a giant Baphomet had stormed through, stomping on all the buildings as it passed. There were hundreds of the dead to bury and everyone still alive had some sort of injury. The divisions of Pronteran troops were accompanied by three priest divisions which moved along the ranks of the injured, healing as they went. But even the renowned Pronteran priests couldn't mend lost limbs. Many blacksmiths were missing an arm, and some of the unlucky were missing more. Most of them would not be able to return to their livelihoods of forging weapons and armour. Even larger than the number of blacksmith fatalities was number of wizards that had died, having been targeted mostly by archers. Several looked like human pincushions from the number of arrows that struck them, though a few unfortunates had been cloven in two from orc warriors. Even after the rout, there were still moans of agony as the severely wounded writhed in pain. Every able bodied person, whether they had healing abilities or not, pitched in to help out. There was a lot that needed to be done to restore Geffen…

Rosa Lizray fingered the rosary around her neck, idly casting an eye over the scene before turning to her current patient. It was a female wizard, and like many other surviving magicians, had arrows sticking out of her. Most of the quarrels were buried in her arms and legs, but another shaft punctured her side. She was one of the lucky that had not been shot in a fatal area. The injured woman waited patiently for the priestess despite her injuries, not wanting to aggravate her wounds further by moving.

There was something that had been bugging Rosa at the back of her mind for quite some time now. Seating herself beside the wizard, she began to snap the fletched ends of the arrows off. "How was the East Gate defended?" she asked the mage, pulling the arrow shafts through and healing the wounds left behind. "The message that we received was that there weren't enough people to defend the east. Yet it's clear something stopped the orcs."

The wizard bit her lip to contain the sharp pain of the arrows being yanked out of her arms. "There was someone…a wizard…but the cost…he shouldn't have…"

The priestess raised an eyebrow as she healed the wounds left behind. "What? What happened?"

Looking away as the arrow was pulled out of her side, the wizard whispered, "It's something no wizard would want to happen to them."

Rosa forced down her rising irritation at the wizard's indirectness. She mentally repeated in her mind that she should be patient like all 'good' priestesses. Trying to be gentle but assertive at the same time, Rosa gripped the mage tightly by the shoulders. "Tell me…what happened?"

There was a long pause before the wizard spoke again. "…He lost himself in the Stream…"

The priestess frowned. She remembered a certain someone rambling on about this Magic Stream thing.

"The Magic Stream…it's something…beautiful…I can't really describe it. It's ethereal and almost unreal. If it was tangible and I tried to touch it, I think my hand would go right through. But I'd still feel…something there…Most of the time you just 'feel' the Stream. It's a…presence, something that feels like someone you love wrapping their arms around you…"

Well, that didn't sound nearly as horrible as the reply she was expecting. It sounded almost like the blissful happiness people got in heaven or something. She said as much to the wizard.

"You don't understand!" the wizard snapped back, a light flaring in her previously dejected eyes. "He pushed himself so far he lost himself in the Stream, and when people do that, they don't come back! Their minds become slush!"

Well, this she could understand. Wizards were known to value quickness of mind very highly. She herself had met a few mentally insane people, and they generally weren't too bad, once you got used to them. But still, there was still something that told her something was very wrong… "Can you tell me the name of the wizard? Or at least describe what he looked like?" she asked.

The wizard's lip curled up into a sad smile. "Yes…I know him…" she mumbled, her hands shaking as she clenched her fists. "Trian…You idiot!" she cried, before running away, wiping her eyes as she ran.

The priestess mentally reeled back a few steps. Trian…? No…Not him! It couldn't be possible!

She grabbed the nearest fully healed wizard by the shirt and hefted him up with one arm. "Take me to the wizard who held the East Gate alone," she growled, narrowing her eyes dangerously. Something in her expression made the wizard feel like he was facing a highly temperamental Kaho. "No buts! I want to see my son!"

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Trian looked around to see if he could spot something, but he should have known better. He was surrounded by darkness, and had been surrounded by it for…a long time. There wasn't anything interesting to focus on, not even a tiny speck of light. Beside him floated his staff, the dragon's eyes dulled, having no light to allow them to shine. Trian reached out to take hold of the cool white metal, taking some comfort that he still had his staff. It was a valuable gift from his mentor, and he was never seen without it.

He closed his eyes. Where was he? The last thing he could remember was casting Meteor Shower on the demi-humans…What time was it? How long had he been here, floating in blackness?

Abruptly, he opened his eyes.

…Was he dead?

The moment that thought entered his head, the blackness exploded with brilliant light. Bringing his arms up to shield his face, Trian suddenly found himself standing on a grassy hill overlooking a calm lake nearby. Rows upon rows of flowers were spread across the ground like a blanket. Bird circled up above in the sky, their cries filling the silence with sound. Aside from the fact this didn't look like anywhere he'd been on Rune-Midgard, everything looked somewhat normal, yet…he felt uncomfortable, like there was something off about the place. Something was missing…He couldn't quite put his finger on it…

"How does the world look without red? Better or worse?"

Immediately, Trian whirled around, bringing his staff up defensively. A ghostly apparition stood beside him with a wistful smile on his face. The ghost seemed…friendly, to say the least. Trian lowered his staff. He pondered on the spectre's words for a few moments before he cast his gaze over at the scenery again. Now that he thought about it, everything seemed a little…colder…in colour. The flowers blooming on the hill didn't seem as vibrant as they should be. There weren't any orange flowers…or purple ones…It was like he wasn't seeing red…

"It's just not as colourful. It's not as lively as it should look," Trian replied, flicking a stray strand of his pale hair out of his face. "Nothing here seems…alive."

The spirit grinned widely at his answer. "For us mages, this place is like Rune-Midgard without magic. Seeing red is not absolutely necessary, but having lived with it most our lives, if you were to suddenly remove red from our vision, everything would seem less vibrant…less alive. The same applies to magic for us. You take away our magic, the world simply isn't the same to us anymore."

Snapping his fingers, the phantom restored the colour to the world. Now that the scenery was back to normal, Trian felt more at ease. Even the ghost himself seemed to take a more solid form, dressing in a modest scarlet garb that somehow lessened the violent colour of his orange-red hair. An overly large feathered hat was perched jauntily on his head. The three feathers attached to the hat looked like they were about to fall off any moment from their hugeness.

"I like red," the ghost said cheerfully, letting a tiny bird alight on his outstretched hand. "Red has always been my favourite colour. It symbolises so many different things. However, I was an entertainer; back then, magicians never existed until I came along. I never thought I'd become eternally glorified through a spell I made long ago. 'Big Red' they called it, but I believe they've given it a more fanciful name now."

Trian's eyes widened as his mind began to put together the pieces of the fragmented puzzle to who this ghost was. There were many, many books dedicated to ancient wizards who had advanced the art of magic, but Trian had really never been much of a book person. He personally preferred to be out there doing magic rather than reading about past history. However, there were some times where he had no choice but to research as part of his wizard exams. And what he learnt, he usually didn't forget…

"It was meant to be a flashy spell to please the crowds, not one that would cause mass destruction. But I suppose times were dire, and Jupitel was always a quick thinker. If my memory serves me correctly, he was the first one to adapt magic for battle. I'm sure you're familiar with my spell, no? You've used it recently, I recall. I believe they call my spell 'Lord of Vermillion' in your time…"

He wanted to speak! He wanted to speak to the man who discovered magic, but no sound would come from his mouth. There were so many things he wanted to say, to ask him, but it was like that time when his mother had silenced him with a Lex Divina. The apparition seemed to notice his predicament, nodding before giving Trian a hollow smile. "You're not meant to be here, wizard," he said quietly, although his soft voice seemed to encompass the entire area. "You're not meant to be here at all. It's been a long time since I've seen another walk this place and had some other company. In this place, you don't have a choice in where you go…"

The world seemed to fade away, even as Trian vainly tried to keep a hold on it. Darkness blotted his vision once more as he felt the ground give way beneath him. He falling again…falling to nowhere…

"Good luck, wizard. You'll be needing it if you wish to leave…"

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"How was it that my son was caught up guarding the East Gate alone?"

Rosa was on the verge of tears, and as a result, she was angry. Already a few wizards were cowering in the corners of the room, trying to make themselves as inconspicuous as possible while they nursed extra injuries. Currently the vengeful priestess was holding up an unlucky magician up against the wall by his throat. He choked as he struggled to breathe through her incredibly strong grip. There was a reason why the Church allowed Battle Priests, priests who were well versed in self-defence, to travel solo…

"He saved us all, Lizray," another wizard spoke up softly. She turned to regard him. She thought she recognised him; he was Trian's instructor a few years back, among other things…"Your craft is dedicated to saving lives, correct? You should be proud of him. He bought us desperately needed time. He gave us our lives."

Her shoulders sagged, as if suddenly the weight of the world had been dropped on her. Sensing that she was calming down slightly, the wizard said gently, "Let him go, Rosa. There's no point in taking your anger out on an innocent."

With a heavy sigh, Rosa loosened her grip on the magician, letting him slide down against the wall. He gasped for air, massaging his bruised throat before he scuttled, terrified, out of the room. "Go on, get out!" she heard her old wizard friend say to the other wizards. "I'll handle this."

The moment the others left, Rosa collapsed to her knees. "But why? Why Trian?" she whispered. She stole a glance at her son. "…Why…?"

Trian was seated on a chair, but anyone could tell he was not himself. Rocking in his spot, his eyes had a glazed quality about them and seemed to be opened far too wide as he stared up at the ceiling. Every now and again, an arm would spasm and his fingers constantly twitched with the desire to fiddle with something. With a too-wide grin, he song nonsense rhymes in a voice pitched higher than normal. He couldn't keep still and his childish smile he had plastered on his face disturbed her to no end. His voice slid off pitch as he softly sang a short little ditty about red seas. Where had he learnt it? He never travelled by sea if he could help it…

"I suggest you go back outside, Lizray. There are people that need your help."

Swallowing with some difficulty, Rosa wiped her eyes and nodded before getting shakily to her feet. "You're right, of course, Xildali," she said, smiling through her unshed tears. "These people need me. But I'll be back tomorrow. I want to discuss where he'll be staying while he is…"

The wizard put a hand on her shoulder comfortingly, dropping the formal tone he held previously. He resisted the urge to take her into his arms; it was not his place to do so. He had lost that chance long ago. "I know it's hard on you, and Aleran when he gets here, but don't lose hope, Rosa." He sighed wearily, trying to ignore the ache in his heart as he tried to comfort her.

"You should be telling yourself that, Xil," she whispered, staring into his eyes. "I know you're more worried than you're letting on. After all, you have a clearer picture on what's going on, and he's your son as much as ours…"

He flinched at the painful reminder of forty years ago. The memories of dreams realised, guilt, love untold and a painful ache in his heart assaulted him. That time was the beginning of greater complications in his life. Sometimes he wondered if Aleran or Rosa blamed him for Trian's unwillingness to embrace God. Wanting to leave those memories behind, he abruptly changed the subject. "I'll be helping with the rebuilding efforts tomorrow. I'm afraid he will no longer be under my authority."

"I…see…"

"I am sorry, Rosa," he mumbled apologetically. "I tried what I could, but I…lost favour with the council a while back. They will be the ones overseeing Trian…and unfortunately, they are the ones you will have to talk to." It was another of his pathetic failures.

She pulled a hand over her face in despair. Ugh…that just made her day worse that it already was. Still, it was a problem she could tackle tomorrow, when she had gotten some sleep and didn't feel like there was a skeleton worker hitting her over the head with its pick.

"…Thank you, Xildali. I'll…I'll be going now…"

The wizard watched her stagger out of the room with a slightly mournful smile on his face. She was strong…she'd make it through this ordeal. With a sigh, he lightly took hold of Trian's light coloured hair and tied it back into its usual long tail. The wizard himself didn't seem to notice what Xildali was doing, instead muttering, "Big? Red? Giant red!" over and over again. Xildali sighed, leaning on the back of the chair. He didn't hold much hope for the recovery of Trian, but he'd try his best to make sure Rosa's candle of hope didn't snuff out. He'd hate to see her spark of life fade away like her son was. She may not be his, but that didn't mean that he still didn't care for her…

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Author Notes: This chapter still feels a bit short. /hmm The next one should be a bit longer. :D I love the musicians at this website: www(dot)ctgmusic(dot)com. The music is free, perfectly legal to download, and if you find the right artists, you get some really top notch stuff. :D Some of the songs I have create the best atmosphere ever for writing.

Comments and critique welcome.